


Arrested

by KroganVanguard



Category: Castle
Genre: AU, BDSM, Castle Pornado, Exhibitionism, F/M, Femdom, Handcuffs, Mildly Dubious Consent, Restraints, Roleplay, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3682917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KroganVanguard/pseuds/KroganVanguard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle would do anything to get out of being arrested, but Detective Beckett isn't going to let him off lightly. Smut set in S1 for Castle Pornado.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrested

“Is this really necessary, Detective Beckett?”

He wrestled the cuffs behind his back, the solid steel unyielding in any effort against it, refusing to be comfortable as he flexed his arm. She glanced back at him through the rear mirror of her cruiser, eyes fierce and green and wide, running a hand through her short, spiky brown hair in frustration. Her gaze flickered up and down his naked torso, stopping briefly at the tensed biceps.

“Yes, Mr. Castle. It is.”

He leaned back against the cool leather of the seat, feeling it with width of his back and shoulders, keeping his gaze locked on her.

“No way I can convince you to...change your mind?“

He licked his lips slowly, his tongue working over his lips, letting her watch. Letting her think about what it meant, letting her imagine how it might feel against her skin.

“Whatever do you mean?”

She tried to keep her tone cool and disinterested, but he could tell he had her on the hook now. Years of experience told him that she was picturing, that she was intrigued. The way her voice was slightly thready, the way her nostrils flared ever so slightly, pupils dilated. The way she shifted in her seat, how she was watching him more than she was watching the road.

"Well, I'd be happy to let you spank me?"

"Oh, it'll take a bit more than that."

***

They were in some deserted car park, deep in the afternoon. He didn't know how she knew or had found the place after pulling over into an alleyway and taking a few more turns that he'd scrambled to keep up with, but had failed to do so.

She pulled over into a corner bay, glancing back at him again through the mirror. He shifted uncomfortably, his pants tented as the reality of what they were about to do sank in.

She slipped out of the front seat and marched around past him to the trunk of the car, his eyes fixated on her swaying ass. Once she popped the trunk he couldn't see what was happening, but he could hear her moving things around, looking for something.

She found it and came back around to his side door, yanking it open.

"Get out."

Her voice was harsh and clipped, steely with authority. Underlying that was a steady thrum of arousal, her body betraying her by the way she was breathing and more. She'd taken off the coat, leaving her in a pale pink shirt and trousers, her badge clipped to the waistband. The shirt was stretched tight around her breasts, and the way her nipples poked through it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra.

And that she was very, very much turned on.

She held in her hand a flat, long piece of black cloth, and as he got out of the car, she grasped his arm. Squeezed, felt up his muscle, and then used that to turn him bodily till he was flat against the side of the car once the door was closed. She was in her heels, and he wasn't wearing shoes or socks, so she actually was close to him in height, and she leaned into his back, whispering into his ear. The hot breath washed over his ear and neck, making his shaft flex against the metal of the car door as pressed her hips against his ass.

"We do this my way."

He gulped and nodded in agreement as the blindfold was wrapped over his eyes, the loss of his sight just another sign of exactly who was in charge right now. Her hands made sure it was tight, but not too tight, not painful.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes, Detective Beckett."

"Good boy. You can refer to me as ma'am if you wish."

Her hands slid down his body as she spoke, sliding over rough skin and fine hair of his chest, lean fingers squeezing. Pushing. Prodding. Groping. They slid down to the fuzz of his lower stomach.

Then she went lower.

One hand snuck into his pants, past his boxers where his member stood at attention, and her hand wrapped around it. Eyes squeezed shut, every sense focused on her, on where her hands were and what they were doing. The other one was down the back of his pants, squeezing his ass-cheek at the same time. Sensations roiled through him, his blooding singing with the heat of her body against his, the cherry scent that surrounded him.

"Is this what impresses them?"

Her hand moved up and down, slowly, and he swallowed thickly. He could feel the sharp pinpricks of the edge of her badge dig into his lower back, her other hand coming back off from kneading his ass to holding him in place as she worked him over.

"Whom...ma'am?"

"You know. The celebutantes. The bimbettes. Richard Castle groupies. I can understand why. Long, thick, uncut. I bet it makes you feel powerful."

He didn't say anything, just clenched his hands into fists, flexed against the cuffs again, felt them bite into his wrists. The pain was almost worthwhile, a distraction from the feel of her fingers against him.

She increases the speed of her movement, her hand stroking him more a little faster, his hips jerking back to give himself some space. She lets him move back, but only a few inches before she pressed back against him. Her other hand is roaming his upper back, sliding over muscle and flesh, leaving blazing trails of fire and need wherever she touches him.

"Do you feel powerful now, Mr. Castle?"

Her voice is throaty, strong, in charge. It sends electricity arcing up his spine, the power in it all the aphrodisiac he's ever needed.

"No, ma'am."

Her lips are against his naked shoulder, pressing a kiss to it, then move to his neck, pressing another kiss before she bares them. Then it's her teeth digging into the soft flesh, biting and suckling hard. So hard she's going to leave a mark.  
Mark him.

"No, you don't. You're just cocky, jumped-up, rich asshole. And this..."

She presses and squeezes around his shaft, pleasure and pain shooting through him. His breath catches.

"...this is only as impressive as I want it to be."

She moves up another gear, stroking him faster, harder, but not painful now, pure pleasure. It might be best handjob he's ever gotten, her lips and tongue back to working his naked back and shoulders, her hips grinding against his ass, every sensation heightened. He clenches his stomach, trying to hold back, trying to think unsexy thoughts, trying everything, but she's in charge now, she's in charge of his sensation, of his sex, of his orgasm, she's in control.

"Ma'am, I can't- I'm going to-"

"Come for me then. Come for me right in your pants."

She hisses the words into his ear, hand continue to stroke him furiously as he feels the dam inside starting to crack, the climax approaching like a tidal wave.

"Come for me now."

The order tips him over the edge.

He feels himself erupt into her hands against the silk of his boxers and corduroy of his pants, one and then two and then three spurts and more as she continues to milk him, her hand now soaked in his seed, her teeth nipping at his skin as his breath comes back to him, knees shaky.

She brings her hand up and out of his pants, trailing his body with her fingers, with his own come, with the sign of her dominance over him till she brings those soaked fingers and palm to his lips.

"Clean me up."

"Yes, ma'am."

He cleans them throughly, sucking back his own highly salty seed, working over every finger, every inch of her palm till she moves her hand back. He can feel the overflow soaked into his underwear, his pants, the embarrassing wet patch sticky against his thigh and softening member.

She's still turned on though, still aroused with need, and he gasps as she flips him again, strength and training outmatching his bigger body. The blindfold is ripped off, and he squints even into the dim light of the deserted car park, facing her.

"On your knees."

He obeys with alacrity, dropping down onto the rough asphalt, the car door at his back now.

She steps up close to him, so close he can scent her arousal mixed in with her perfume or bodywash or whatever it is, close that her hips and body fill his entire field of view as looks up at her from this worshipper's pose, the badge of her authority prominent in front of his eyes.

"My turn."

She undoes her pants with a quick flick of her fingers, slides them down. There's a decent sized wet patch on her panties, one to match the one he's just made in his own underwear, and then she slides them down too. Her folds are slick and wet, her clit erect and demanding attention as she slides her fingers through his hair, gripping so tightly that surely some of them will come out, and pulls him into her till his nose is pressed tight against her mons and his tongue is already sliding inside to taste her essence.

"One orgasm per charge, Mr. Castle."

He delivers.

***

She undoes the handcuffs with the key, helping him massage his bruised and painful wrists afterwards.

“I told you we shouldn’t use my police cuffs. They’d hurt.”

“I wanted…the authenticity.”

He flashes her a cheeky grin, and she rolls her eyes in response.

"Water?"

He nods, and she goes to the trunk again, and then brings out a water bottle as well as his spare clothes. The pants, the shoes, the shirt, the socks the blue Thomas Nash boxers.

"How'd you know about this place, Beckett?"

He takes a long gulp of water before he gets changed.

"Suspect fleeing a crime scene dumped a car here. It's scheduled to be demolished in a couple of months, but in the meantime it's closed to public."

She shrugs, her lips crinkling into a smile.

"When we talked about doing this scenario, it was the first place that popped into mind."

He smiles back, impressed and satiated and starving all at once.

"Pays to be friends-with-benefits with one of New York's finest. Now, Chinese? I'm starving."

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts.


End file.
